Wager
by Ada15
Summary: That's right. I'm doing the "I bet I can get him before you" storyline...Orton and Ziggler make a wager. Randy Orton/John Cena, Dolph Ziggler/CM Punk
1. Prologue

So, yes this might be the biggest fanfiction cliché after bodyswapping and genderswapping but, hey, I guess I just wanted to try it out. I wrote a tiny little thing with Punk/Ziggler and liked it and Orton/Cena has always been one of my favorite pairings in wrestling.

This is character based and it is short, just a prologue.

I don't own anyone mentioned in this fic.

Arms crossed, leaning against the wall, Randy couldn't help but to stare. He'd been doing that a lot lately. Even more so since he'd been drafted to Smackdown. He'd never been more grateful than when Triple H had announced that the Smackdown superstars would be performing on RAW as well. At least it meant that, once a week, Randy would get to see _him. _

John was standing on the other side of the room, speaking animatedly to CM Punk, who he'd apparently become quite good friends with since their feud had ended last fall. It was a strange friendship, at least in Randy's view. Punk had to be one of the most cynical bastards Randy had ever come across and Randy was pretty cynical himself.

But, Randy and John had become friends of a sort in the last year or so, ever since John had gotten himself fired to help Randy retain the WWE title against Barrett. Things had changed since then, of course, but the growing obsession Randy had begun to develop for John since then had not faded out in the least.

"Somebody has a crush," a voice sang in his ear and Randy turned a glare on Dolph Ziggler, who had sidled up to him without him noticing somehow.

"What the hell do you want, Ziggler?" Randy asked, in a low, angry voice.

Ziggler shrugged, a smug smile on his face. "Looks like you're the one who wants something." He tilted his head in Cena and Punk's direction and turned his gaze on the two as well. Randy raised an eyebrow when he saw Ziggler's eyes narrow and was sure that the man wasn't looking at John at that moment.

In fact, he was sure of who's ass Ziggler was staring at when Punk, with his back to the both of them, put his foot on the bench, and leaned over to fix his boot.

"Looks like I'm not the only one," Randy pointed out.

Ziggler only shrugged again, the smirk still on his face. "Maybe you're not. I am looking," he admitted freely.

Randy tilted his head and snorted. "And you're going to get shot down." Hard too, most likely. Randy had never liked Punk. In fact, if he would ever make a list the guys he liked least in the locker room, Punk would have been close to the top. Punk had spent the better part of last year using the Nexus to attack Randy.

Punk was an asshole, even if he'd toned it down a bit in the last few months and Randy was sure that the man couldn't stand Ziggler. Randy was also sure that when Punk shot Ziggler down, that he'd do it with a lot of good insults.

John, on the other hand…Randy hadn't approached John yet about his growing feelings but he planned to. John was almost the complete opposite of Randy. He'd rarely ever seen John unhappy. It was one of the reasons Randy liked John in the first place.

"I got a better chance than you," Ziggler argued, the confidence still in his voice.

"Sure you do." Randy's tone rang with sarcasm. He wasn't even sure why he was still having the conversation. Ziggler was not one of his favorite people backstage. This was the man, after all, who was still dragging Vickie around with him.

"I'd bet that I get the job done faster than you," Ziggler pronounced.

"We're betting now?" Randy asked, disinterested. He wasn't interested in the conversation, annoyed with Ziggler already.

"Why? You scared to? _I _didn't kick Punk's father in the head." The arrogance in Ziggler's tone had Randy scowling.

"Yeah, well, John doesn't hate me," he countered.

"I can turn that around," Ziggler said, seemingly unconcerned with the implication that Punk probably did hate him.

"You're not as smooth as you think you are." He was pretty sure no one was a smooth as Ziggler _thought_ he was.

"No, I'm better. Come on, Orton. Are you afraid? Afraid that Cena will turn you down faster than you claim Punk will turn me down?"

Randy straightened a little, his scowl deepening. Punk and John were leaving the room, the younger of the two poking at the older and saying something that had John showing his dimples. Neither one even glanced in Randy and Ziggler's direction.

"You'd lose. Why even bother?"

"If you're so sure I'm going to lose…"

Randy considered him a moment, considered the fact that Ziggler might not leave him alone and considered the fact that putting the man in his place would be pretty satisfying. It wasn't as if CM Punk even liked the guy.

"Fine. What did you have in mind?" He asked even as he felt like he had stepped into one of those high school teen comedies. The arrogant smile he got in return only made him want to knock the man down a few notches even more.

"Oh, I always have something good in mind, Randy."


	2. Rules of Flirting Part One

Okay…so the timeline on this story…I've set this sometime before Elimination Chamber but after the Royal Rumble…

_The Rules of Flirting Part One With Dolph Ziggler_

Sneaking up on someone, Dolph reflected after the fact, was probably not a good idea. He'd only intended on getting Punk's attention and to, maybe, invade his personal space just a little bit. So he had, in the locker room, snuck up on Punk while the man had his back turned.

"Looks like we'll be in the ring together-" He'd barely gotten the words out, spoken in a low tone, when Punk swung around in surprise, his elbow going high. The padding that Punk always wrapped around his right elbow to protect it was most likely the only thing that saved Dolph from a broken nose, although it didn't save him from a bloody one.

"Dammit!" Dolph's head was knocked back and his hands went immediately to his nose.

"What the fuck are you doing, Ziggler?" Punk asked with a glare.

"I just wanted to talk to you before you attacked me," Dolph said with a glare of his own.

"You snuck up on me, moron." Punk rolled his eyes and then shoved Dolph towards the bench until he sat down. To Dolph's surprise, Punk reached forward and gripped Dolph's chin. Dolph obediently dropped his hands, a little pissed at himself for screwing his own plans up.

"You're fine," Punk stated shortly, releasing the almost bruising grip and stepping away again.

"Fine? You attacked me. A little more sympathy here."

Punk shrugged. "Next time, don't sneak up on me." He grabbed his WWE championship from the bench and walked out of the room, leaving Dolph to stare after him.

_Well, that hadn't gone as planned. _

Xxxxxxxxxx

Dolph was grinning as he made his way down the hallway of the arena. After his failed attempt earlier with Punk, he was happy to learn that he'd been booked in a match against Punk. It was the perfect opurtunity.

His last showing against Punk at Royal Rumble hadn't exactly been his best and their match had been completely overshadowed by Laurinaitis and his issues with Punk. Admittedly, Dolph hadn't really brought his A game that night either and he'd been frustrated with himself afterwards but tonight…

Dolph did not care that it was just a dark match after the show. In fact, he was sure that it would work in his favor. Cameras wouldn't be on him so he could get away with a bit of flirting during the match.

Dolph went out first, of course, unconcerned with the boos he got from the children in the audience. The smirk did not leave his face when Punk's music hit and he made his entrance. Dolph kept his gaze trained on the man. His smirk widened even further when Punk stripped off his shirt.

This was one of the things that started the initial attraction he had for Punk. The man's trunks rode almost obscenely low on his hips, and his thighs…he'd imagined, more than once, what it would be like to have those thighs wrapped around his waist.

After the hit earlier, Dolph felt that he could mess with Punk just a little bit. They locked up and Dolph pushed forward immediately, pushing until Punk's back pressed against the turnbuckle. Pressing his body as close as he could, he brought a knee in-between Punk's legs. A second later, he was shoved forcefully away.

He had to suppress a laugh at the look of surprise on Punk's face but was wary a moment later when that surprise turned to anger. They raised their arms again and Dolph probably should have expected the kick he received to the midsection instead of another lock up.

Dolph used every opportunity he could after that. He let his touch linger a bit longer than he needed to; he got a little closer than he needed to. It was a tactic he'd used before and one that had worked in the past. He knew he was throwing Punk off his game, he saw it every time Punk forcefully created separation between them.

He was still in a good mood after the match when he made his way backstage and went to take a shower and change. He was just opening his bag to get some clothes when his arm was grabbed and he was spun around until he was face to face with a furious CM Punk.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Punk was still in his ring attire as well, his hair still sticking up, still sweaty from their match.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Dolph answered, doing his best to sound as innocent as possible, aware that the half smile on his face was probably ruining the affect.

"Sure you don't. I don't know if you're fucking with me, if this is some sort of game to you but if you pull that shit again, I am going to hurt you."

"It's not a game," Dolph stated plainly. "I want you." The blunt honesty of the statement surprised Punk, who drew back a little. He seemed to recover after a moment and shook his head.

"Right. And you thought putting your hands on me without my consent was a good way of telling me that?"

"You agreed to the match," Dolph pointed out with a shrug.

"You know what I'm talking about, jackass. Just because we have a match doesn't give you the right to grab my ass."

"Fine." Dolph threw his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry for getting a little too close. Now, I'm free tonight…"

"I am too but I think I'd rather go back to the hotel and watch late night television." He turned, started to leave but Dolph reached forward to stop him, wrapping his fingers around Punk's bicep.

"Wait. Look, I really do like you."

"And you think what?" Punk raised an eyebrow, his tone turning a bit condescending. "Just because you 'like' me I have to 'like' you in return? Sorry, Ziggler," he patted Dolph on the chest, "but you don't get what you want this time."

He pulled his arm from Dolph's grip, and walked out, once again leaving Dolph alone in the room, staring after him.

"Dammit."

To make matters worse, he spotted Orton and Cena in the hallway on his way out talking and when Cena left, the smirk on Orton's face as he turned to face Dolph made his blood boil.

"Get what you want yet, Ziggler?" Orton asked.

"Screw you," Dolph said, aware that he sounded a little petulant. Orton only laughed in response before continuing down the hallway.

Dolph sighed and headed towards the parking lot. He still had confidence. The game wasn't over yet.


	3. Rules of Flirting Part Two

Currently, this is the only story I'm writing that is flowing any at all…so I'll probably be updating this one pretty fast for a while…

_Rules of Flirting Part Two with Randy Orton_

It was never hard to approach John. At least it hadn't been since they'd become at least somewhat friends backstage. That friendship had come slowly, especially after the feuds they'd had. Randy had done some pretty despicable things during that time but Nexus had forced them to band together in a way that had been unexpected.

Randy had never been great a being subtle. The direct approach had always worked for him in the past and he saw no reason why he should change that tactic with John. Also, he hadn't seen Ziggler's match with Punk but he'd passed Punk in the hallway afterwards and the man had looked ready to spit fire so he was pretty sure that Ziggler hadn't gotten anywhere in his own pursuit.

It was after Randy had already passed Punk, who had been stomping towards the locker room with a furious scowl on his face, that Randy finally spotted John in the hallway, most likely heading towards the parking lot himself, already changed into his street clothes.

"John!" He called, jogging to catch up. Cena turned to him, raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, man." He smiled that easy smile.

"Hey." Randy stopped right in front of him. "You going back to the hotel?"

"Planning on it. Why?"

"I was actually planning on going out to grab a drink. Was wondering if you'd want to come."

John seemed to consider this idea for a moment before he shrugged. "Sure, man. I guess I could use a drink. You wanna meet there?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Alright." John gave him a blinding smile, and started back towards the parking lot. Randy turned just in time to catch Ziggler coming out of the locker room. He was watching Randy with a scowl on his face and Randy couldn't help himself.

"Get what you want, Ziggler?" He asked with a smirk.

"Screw you," Ziggler said, a little petulantly. Randy only laughed at the look on his face, and started out himself.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Randy's night had not, in fact gone as he had planned. He'd gotten the drinks first, paid for them himself and went to the table he and John had gotten. He'd sat down next to John instead of across from the man and while John didn't seem to mind, he also didn't seem to notice.

John seemed a little distracted, actually. "What are you thinking about?" Randy asked curiously, leaning his elbows on the table, close to John.

John shrugged. "Just…everything that's happened. Haven't exactly had a good month."

Randy nodded. He'd been watching John's feud with Kane and tilted his head, asked a question that he'd wanted to ask for a while. "So…you and Ryder…?"

"What about him?"

"You two aren't…together?" He wasn't the only person who had made that assumption since John had become friends with Zack Ryder.

"What? No." John looked entirely too surprised at the question. "Why would you think that?"

Randy held up his hands. "It was just a question."

"Well, no. I am not with Zack," John stated firmly.

"Good." Randy smiled at that. At least he wasn't completely wasting his time.

"Why is that good?"

Randy opened his mouth to answer, even leaned further into John's personal space but was interrupted by another voice yelling John's name. Randy couldn't help but a glare at both Eve and Kelly as they came over. It took him a minute to turn his expression into something a little more neutral.

"Hey," John said, with a grin. "Where's Zack?" He asked Eve.

"Oh, he didn't feel like coming out," Eve answered, rather dismissively. Randy raised an eyebrow at the look in her eyes and had the sudden feeling that it wasn't Ryder he should have been worried about. She only turned her gaze briefly on towards him. "Randy."

"Eve." Randy leaned even closer towards John and was proven right when her eyes narrowed he saw a flash of anger in them.

"You want to dance?" Eve asked John with a hopeful look. Randy was pretty sure it was an act.

"Actually, I'm hanging out," John answered, unwilling to abandon Randy when he'd been the one to ask John to come out with him. John was much too nice for that.

"Well, we can all go out to the dance floor. Right?" Eve turned towards Kelly briefly, who eyed Randy warily. She didn't particularly like Randy, he knew that but she must have seen the look in Eve's eyes because she relented after a few moments of silent conversation with the woman.

"Sure."

It wasn't exactly what Randy had had planned for the night but he got up when John did. Besides, it wasn't a total bust. Randy used the opportunity. The club they had gone to was rather crowded, everyone was dancing with everyone.

Randy passed Kelly off several times, managing to get in-between Eve and John on several occasions. The problem, of course, was that John didn't seem to notice what he was doing, nor did he notice the possessive gleam in Eve's eyes every time the girl pulled him close. It wasn't until some slow song came on that he finally got frustrated and reached for John, grabbing his arm.

"Sorry," he said insincerely to Eve. "But I need to burrow him for a minute."

"What's up?" John asked when Randy began pulling John towards the exit.

"I asked you here for a reason," Randy started when they made it outside and to some privacy.

"Yeah…thought we were having fun."

"I'm pretty sure Eve was, at least." Randy shook his head. "Look, I think I may have been misunderstood when I asked you out to this place earlier. Which is my fault since I didn't clarify."

"Clarify what?"

"I'm not great at the subtle approach, alright? So, I was asking you out, John."

John stared at him. "You were asking me out?" He repeated.

"Yes." Randy rolled his eyes. "God, I feel like I'm back in high school."

"Oh…" John's eyes widened. "Oh…"

"Yep."

"Right." John looked around. "Well, that's…"

Randy took a few steps closer to him, until they were practically touching. "If we're going to go high school completely…I like you, John."

If possible, John's eyes widened even further. "Oh….I have to go," he blurted out. He backed away a few steps and then he was practically sprinting away from Randy.

Randy watched him go, mouth open and slapped his own forehead in frustration.


	4. An Interlude

This is short but I loved writing it. And I'm thinking of changing the rating on this just because of Punk's language…

_An Interlude with John Cena and CM Punk_

It was past one o'clock when the knock came on his hotel room door. Punk wasn't sleeping and he doubted he would be at all. He was pretty sure that most of the other guys were sleeping. He got up from the bed, abandoning the latest comic he'd been reading to answer the door. He wondered a moment if Ziggler would be stupid enough to show up at his room as he swung the door open. It wasn't Ziggler.

"Hey," John greeted before letting himself in without an invitation. He went to sit on the edge of Punk's bed. Punk raised an eyebrow, thought about protesting before he simply shrugged and closed the door. It wasn't like he'd be sleeping anyway.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, genuinely curious about why John was in his hotel room in the middle of the night.

"I figured you'd be the only one up."

"And…?"

"And…" John hesitated, chewed his lip a moment. When he spoke next, his tone had turned incredulous. "Randy asked me out."

Punk considered this a moment. "Huh." He went over to the bed, and dropped down on it as well, moving so that he was sitting against the headboard and picked up his discarded comic.

John twisted so that he could face him. "That's it?"

"Well, come on. It's not that surprising," Punk answered with a shrug.

"It's not?"

"Not with the way he's been staring at you for the past several weeks." He paused, considered his own words. "Might have been before that but that's when I first noticed."

"And you didn't tell _me _about it?" John asked angrily, grabbing a pillow and hitting Punk several times on his outstretched legs.

"I thought you knew," Punk said with a glare. "It's not my fault you're blind as a fucking bat."

"I'm not blind," John protested, although not strongly.

"So? Did you say yes? Are you and Randy an item now? Are you dating? Are you going to leave here and head up to his hotel room to get it on-"

"Shut up," John cut him off, scowling. Punk's tone had been mocking. "I didn't know it was supposed to be a date," he admitted after a moment.

Punk snorted. "Sure, your eyes are wide open. Seriously, now that you know…?"

"No way," John said immediately. "It's _Randy Orton. _The guy who kicked my father in the head. The guy who put me on the shelf for eight months."

"Thought you forgave him for all that shit. You two are friends now, right?"

"Just because we've been scheduled in tag matches doesn't mean we're best friends. And it doesn't mean I trust him. I still can't believe he asked me out in the first place."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Ziggler practically shoved his hands down my trunks during our match," Punk offered almost idly.

John nearly choked on the air at that. "What? Dolph Ziggler?"

"No, his brother Dolby. He's not as good looking but just as forward apparently and just as cocky."

John rolled his eyes. "Funny." He paused. "Wait, you think Ziggler's good looking?"

Punk shrugged. "Sure."

"So, you and he are…?"

"Fuck no. I elbowed him in the face and told him to fuck off," Punk stated plainly, a smirk beginning to form on his lips.

"So, you don't like him?"

"I like him fine," Punk protested. "He's one of the more interesting guys backstage. Even though it does piss me off when Vickie constantly interferes in every match I have with him."

"Then why…?" He was pretty sure he'd never get Punk's screwed up thinking process.

"I could say it's because I don't do one night stands and I'm pretty sure that's what he's looking for. Or maybe it's his ego. That seems like it'd get in the way."

"This coming from the guy with the words 'Best in the World' on the back of his tee-shirts."

"And it also pisses me off when people get into my personal space without me asking first," Punk continued, ignoring John for the moment.

"I'm sure there are very few things that don't piss you off," John said a little dismissively, dropping back on Punk's bed. Punk kicked him lightly on the shoulder.

"Get up. You're not fucking sleeping here."

"Like I would. I definitely don't need rumors that we're sleeping together."

"I don't give a shit about rumors but I still don't want you in my bed."

"You're a dick. I think maybe you and Ziggler are made for each other."

"Uh huh." Punk lifted his comic again. "Say hi to Randy for me."

John let out an exasperated breath and threw the pillow he'd hit Punk with earlier at the man before he got up and left the room, wondered a moment why he bothered trying to talk to him. But there was one thing that was true. He definitely did need to do something about Randy.


	5. In Lust

This chapter takes place in February, during and after the RAW where Punk trolled Jericho and they had that six man match to decide who would go into the Elimination Chamber last.

_I'm Totally in Lust with You_

"So, did you get anywhere?"

Randy only glanced up at Ziggler but he saw the expression on the man's face and knew, just from that, Ziggler already knew the answer to his question.

"Did you?" Randy countered with a smirk of his own because John may have run from him but at least John hadn't bloodied his nose. He'd heard about that one.

"I'm working on it," Ziggler answered and, although he still had his confident expression, Randy noticed that his voice had turned a little defensive.

Randy finished lacing up his boots sat back on the bench, glancing around the room. He hadn't spotted John yet.

"You just need to remember our wager," Ziggler reminded with a smirk of his own. Randy suppressed a wince at that. He still couldn't believe he'd been stupid enough to agree to Ziggler's terms.

"I remember," Randy replied, standing to his full height. "But I'm not worried. Let me guess? He told you to fuck off?"

Ziggler grimaced. "He'll come around." He paused and the grimace turned into an arrogant grin. "Everyone does."

"Right. You're not as good as you think you are and I'm pretty sure you have the bigger challenge."

"Maybe. But that just means that I'll prove just how good I am when I win this."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Punk was still smirking from his encounter with Jericho when he ran into Ziggler again backstage. He was in a rather good mood as he'd managed to piss Jericho off without even saying anything. He spotted Ziggler in the hallway, looking agitated and like he was waiting for someone. His smirk widening, Punk snuck up on him the same way Ziggler had in the locker room the other day.

"Looking for me?" He asked loudly, right in Ziggler's ear and then he ducked and backed away when Ziggler spun around in surprise, expecting it.

"What the hell?" Ziggler asked, glaring at him.

Punk only grinned. "Thought you wanted me in your personal space."

"I do." Ziggler took a breath and recovered. "So why don't you come back in it?"

"What makes you think I want there?"

"Because, trust me, I can rock your world."

Punk fought off a grimace at the lameness of that line. He was expecting so much better from Ziggler. His good mood, however, had not faded and he did step closer to the man, right back into his personal space. He leaned close, until their lips were almost touching.

"Oh, damn. I really need to get ready for my match." He pulled away abruptly, before Ziggler could close the distance between them and turned his back, walked away.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Dolph watched Punk leave, his mouth open in surprise. But a slow grin did spread across his face and he shook his head. Even putting his bet with Orton aside, he did love a good challenge and Orton was right, it seemed. Punk was a challenge.

He wasn't pissed about what had just happened. Oh, no. It just added to his resolve and, at least, he knew that this was going to be fun, that Punk was definitely going to make it fun.

Xxxxxxxxx

"John!"

He froze at the familiar voice calling his name and had to fight the urge to flee once again. He wasn't looking forward to this conversation, had been dreading it since he'd run from Randy in the parking lot of that bar but he turned anyway, and gave the best smile he could muster.

"Hey."

"Hey, we should talk." Randy stopped in front of him, close to him and John sighed.

"Yeah, look Randy...I don't want to sound mean or anything but I had no idea that you were actually asking me out-"

"Its fine," Randy said, waving that away. "I get it."

"You do?" John asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"Yeah." Randy placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned closer to him. "You don't have to say it. You don't like me, I get it."

"It's not that I don't," John protested immediately. "It's just-" He cut himself off, unsure of how he should say it. He didn't want to come right out and tell Randy that he didn't trust the guy that that was the main reason he wouldn't consider what Randy was offering.

"Its fine," Randy repeated.

John nodded but he was also very aware of how closely Randy was standing to him, of the hand still on his shoulder. Randy's gray eyes were staring into his and John could say that Randy's looks had nothing to do with his rejection. Nearly everyone in the locker room could admit that Randy was probably one of the hottest guys back there. John had never really given it much thought, however, mostly because he'd hated Randy for most of the time he'd known the man.

"I just thought I'd let you know that I'm not giving up," Randy said, bringing John out of his thoughts.

"Randy…I'm not…I just don't think I could trust you like that," John finally admitted.

"Because of what I've done in the past? I get that but I'm going to show you that you can, that I'm not the same guy." Randy smiled and his thumb brushed John's collarbone. "I'll see you later, John."

Xxxxxxxxx

Punk raised an eyebrow when he made he stopped in the hallway. His match was on last, the six man battle scheduled as the main event. John was standing in the hall, his gaze trained on the monitor, on the match just before his own.

Orton was on the screen and Punk couldn't help but to be amused when he managed to walk over and stand right beside John without the other noticing him. John seemed engrossed in Orton's match. After a minute, Punk lifted a hand snapped his fingers in front of John's face, startling him.

"Tell me again how much you don't like Orton," Punk said.

"I don't," John said, but he didn't sound as confident as he had the other night in Punk's hotel room.

"Sure." He was highly amused by this. "You think he's hot."

John chewed his lip. "He said he's not giving up."

"I would guess not with the way he's been staring at your ass." Punk's tone turned mocking. "He's totally in lust with you, Cena."

John glared at him briefly. "What about Ziggler?"

"He's getting kind of fun to mess with," Punk answered with a shrug.

"Again, you're a dick." John turned his attention back to the screen. "So, at the end of this, are you going to let Ziggler have what he wants?"

"I told you I don't do one night stands."

John nodded. He'd already known that before. It went against his straight edge code or whatever. "What if he's not just looking for a one night stand?"

Punk shrugged. "Then, we'll see."

"I can't believe you're considering it." He never would himself. He didn't see Ziggler's appeal at all.

"Like you're not considering it with Orton." Punk grinned at him briefly before starting past him.

John turned his gaze back towards the screen, unable to help himself. Maybe Punk was right…


	6. Tease

_CM Punk and Dolph Ziggler in How to Be a Tease_

Ziggler was taking every opportunity he could. Punk could have been pissed about the way Ziggler's hands tended to stray during the matches they had, and they had a lot of those. He seemed to be booked in more matches at the house shows against Ziggler than any other man on the roster leading up to the Elimination Chamber pay-per-view.

He could have been pissed and could have made Ziggler pay for it by beating the shit out of him but he'd realized that there was a much easier and much better way to achieve that. He did have an advantage over Ziggler, after all. The man had already admitted that he wanted Punk, and so far Punk hadn't reciprocated in the slightest.

Punk figured he could quite possibly drive Ziggler insane by just allowing the lingering touches and delivering a few of his own. It couldn't go too far, of course. Even though the cameras weren't rolling during the house shows, they were still in front of an audience and Punk made sure that it was just enough.

It started during a house show about a week before Elimination Chamber was supposed to take place. During the initial lock up, Punk drove Ziggler into one corner and then followed himself. He pressed the entire length of his body against Ziggler's

When he broke away from Ziggler, waiting until the referee almost reached the five count, he was smirking. Ziggler stayed in the corner for a moment, a look of surprise on his face before it slowly changed into a smirk of his own.

After that, the game was definitely on.

The match began to degenerate into something close to foreplay but they still fought. In fact, Punk thought the best form of foreplay had to be kicking Ziggler upside the head and then eventually gaining the pin fall.

The problem, of course, was that Ziggler was getting to him a bit as well. Punk had expected it. It'd been a while since he'd been with someone and he hadn't been lying to John. He did like Ziggler. Still, it was worth it when he saw the look on Ziggler's face as he backed up the ramp after his win.

He only wondered briefly if any of the fans watching them had caught on to what had just gone down but doubted they had. Wrestling required men to roll around on the mat and have their hands all over each other no matter what the match.

Plus, he just didn't really care. People could think what they wanted about him. And he was having way too much fun messing with Ziggler.

Xxxxxxxxx

Dolph was…well, frustrated. The 'match' that had just happened between he and Punk had left him that way and he'd stormed backstage as soon as he had been able to recover from Punk's finisher. He had given as good as he'd gotten, at least during most of the match and he was sure that he was getting to Punk but obviously not as much as he'd wanted if Punk wasn't seeking him out and not the other way around.

He eventually went to shower and change, pulling on one of his favorite pink shirts and slacks, his mind still on Punk and that match. He spent a bit more time than usual in the shower because of it. Punk had broken out a few submissions that had required him to wrap his thighs around first, Dolph's neck and second, his waist.

When he came out of the shower, the first thing he did was look around the locker room for Punk. He had originally wanted to make Punk chase after him but after that match, it was obvious that Punk was a bit bolder than Dolph had thought he would be.

He'd expected Punk to be angry at the invasion of his personal space, and he had been at first. He hadn't expected the almost playful teasing that he had gotten tonight. He'd underestimated Punk.

Not that he was complaining, exactly. This definitely made things a lot more interesting and it only made him want Punk more. He could always appreciate someone who knew how to play the game that he'd set up. He was damn good at winning, however, and he was going to this time as well.

He finally did find Punk in the hallway, speaking to an employee. His bag was on his back, and he was dressed in his street clothes, black hoodie included. Dolph started over to him, grabbed his arm and spun Punk to face him.

He glared first at the man that Punk had been talking to until he scurried away. "So, you playing me now?" Dolph asked when they were alone.

Punk's eyes widened and the false innocence in his expression was exaggerated enough that Dolph almost felt the urge to laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." Dolph's frustration bled away and he stepped, once again, into Punk's personal space. "You were teasing me. Why? Thought you didn't want anything to do with me?"

"Who says I do?" Punk asked, a smirk forming on his face once again. "Maybe you're just fun to mess with."

"Oh, come on. I could tell I was getting to you just as much as you were getting to me."

"You could tell, huh?" Punk raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. You're the one who came looking for me."

"Maybe but someday soon, you're going to be the one looking."

Punk's eyes shone with amusement. "Is that a challenge?"

"Oh, no. That's a promise," Dolph stated. "I'll make sure of it."

Punk leaned forward but their lips did not connect. Instead he leaned close to Dolph's ear. "We'll see." He turned, and walked away then. Dolph watched him go with a grin on his face.

_Oh, yes. This was going to be fun_


	7. Date

_You have a date?_

Kane was an asshole. Randy was too persistent and Punk was a dick. John had decided all this while sitting in the locker room. He'd avoided a few encounters with Randy already but he still had Kane to deal with.

Randy had seemed to have decided to make it his mission to prove to John that he was a different person. It wasn't as if he didn't know Randy was a little different. He'd been in several tag matches with Randy since the breakup of Legacy but Randy could still be a bit unstable at times.

Watching Punk and Ziggler interact with each other wasn't helping him much either. John was still blaming Punk for his new line of thinking when it came to Randy because he had started to notice things he hadn't let himself before. Things like how pretty Randy's gray eyes could be, even when they were shining with rage. Things like how little Randy wore when he was in the ring.

He was in a sour mood as he sat in a far corner to watch the show, waiting to be called for his own match. Punk and Ziggler were sitting not too far away from him, side by side. He had no clue what the two of them were saying to each other but the almost identical smirks on their faces told a story of their own.

"You're not avoiding me, are you?" The deep voice startled John and he looked up just as Randy sat down beside him.

"Of course not," John answered automatically, lying through his teeth. He'd never been too great at lying though and it didn't even sound convincing to him.

"Sure you're not." Randy paused, studied him a moment. "Look, I have a proposal."

"Alright," John said cautiously.

"We go out." Randy held up a hand when John began to automatically protest. "I'm not trying to pressure or anything. I'm just saying we go out, have fun. We've done that before, right? I get that you don't trust me at this point but give me a chance, at least one. I promise I'm not going to throw myself at you while we're out."

John chewed his lip, considered this. He'd been resolved before-well, kind of resolved. "I don't…"

"A chance, John. That's all I'm asking for."

And he couldn't really argue with the tone of Randy's voice or the look in his eyes. "Alright…"

Xxxxxxxxx

After John left the room, Randy got up and walking around he took the seat he'd seen CM Punk vacate just a few moments before. Ziggler was smiling when he sat down and it didn't fall at all when he met Randy's gaze.

"Somebody has a date tonight," Randy commented, stretching his legs out before him. "And I'm going to bet it isn't you."

"You have a _date?" _Ziggler asked, his tone mocking. "Are you sure about that? Sure Cena isn't going to bail on you halfway through? He sure didn't look too excited when he left here."

"I'm doing better than you," Randy replied with a scowl.

Ziggler's smile only grew. "Sure about that, Orton? I've at least gotten my hands on Punk."

Randy rolled his eyes. "In the ring, Ziggler. I'm betting he hasn't let you anywhere close to where you need to be to win this bet outside of the ring."

"I'm getting there," Ziggler said with an unconcerned shrug.

Randy leaned closer to him. "Well, if you don't get there fast enough…" He left the sentence hanging, didn't need to remind Ziggler verbally the stakes they had set down for the bet.

"I'll get there before you, Orton."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

John was just unlocking the door to his hotel room when Punk came up to him. "Hey, you going out?"

"Yeah." He'd told Randy he'd change and then meet him.

"Great. Can I use your room while you're gone? I'm bored out of my skull and I don't feel like going out right now."

"Why would you need my room?" John asked even as he opened the door and let Punk inside.

"Ziggler somehow found out which one is mine and he's been bugging the shit out of me. And as much as I'm enjoying this game, I am exhausted right now."

"Well, if you actually slept every once and a while, you might not be. What the hell is going on with you and Ziggler anyway?"

Punk grinned. "Did you watch any of our matches? I honestly think I might be able to drive the guy insane before this is over."

John rolled his eyes and huffed out a small laugh. "Why would you want to play that game?"

Punk shrugged. "Because it is kind of fun. The guy won't leave me the fuck alone and this is way more entertaining that just getting pissed about it. And, I can still kick his ass during our matches."

"And you don't think this is going to backfire on you?"

"I can handle Ziggler." He paused, looked John over. "Where are you going anyway?"

"Just…out." John looked away from him, pocketed his room key.

"Out, huh?" He studied John's expression. "Out with Randy?"

John jerked his head up. "What? I'm not…." He didn't even finish that and Punk grinned at him.

"Yeah. And you're getting on me for messing with Ziggler. So, you have a date?" Punk sounded highly amused by the idea.

"Shut up." John immediately headed for the door. "Just…leave my room intact, will you?"

"Who do you think I am? _I'm _not the guy that destroys hotel rooms."

"Whatever. I'm leaving."

"Have fun!" Punk called just before he closed the door. John let out a sigh. He needed better friends.

Xxxxxxxxxx

John was having a good time. He'd been wary about the prospect of going out with Randy but had forgotten about that wariness after they'd made it to the club Randy had picked out. John had always liked going out to places like it. He liked the atmosphere and he liked dancing.

John got a view of Randy that he'd honestly never seen before. They danced in with the crowd, and while Randy often moved into his personal space, he wasn't making it obvious, which John was grateful for.

Randy was smiling-a real smile-for most of the night. He joked around with John and he danced. John had to admit that Randy may have been beautiful when he wasn't scowling in a rage. They didn't talk much, the music too loud to do so but John still had a good time.

In fact, he had a much better time than he'd thought he would and by the end of the night, his view of Randy had changed just a little bit. Randy never once pressured him during the night and, when they separated to leave at the end of the night, both men had smiles on their faces.

John was just even more confused about where he should stand with Randy.


	8. Guilt Trip

_Guilt Trips and Underhanded Tactics _

"I don't get it." Punk was frowning slightly; gaze trained on the monitor where the divas match had just taken place. Legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles and already in his ring attire, he was waiting for his own match.

"Don't get what?" Dolph asked from beside him. He was faced towards Punk just slightly, elbows on his knees and phone out. He hadn't been paying attention to the show.

"I don't get why they even have the divas matches anymore if they're going to do it this way."

Dolph frowned, and looked up at him. "Don't tell me you're sexist?"

Punk rolled his eyes. "Are you kidding? I love women. I'm just saying, this kind of crap is why nobody takes them seriously anymore."

"Yeah, well. I doubt that's going to change anytime soon. It hasn't so far anyway. And you love women?"

"I've dated women," Punk pointed out, "and I'm still friends with a few of them."

"Eh, women don't really do it for me."

Punk raised an eyebrow. "You mean except for Vickie?"

"That's a business arrangement," Dolph said with a glare.

"I'm sure it is," Punk answered dryly.

"It is," Dolph insisted. "I come out and call myself her boyfriend, she helps me."

"So you and Vickie aren't…?" He waved a hand.

"No," Dolph said immediately. "It's all business. We don't even speak outside of the arena. I keep her on television and keep everyone thinking that we are together and she's happy."

"And you get to cheat your way to the top."

"Don't even lecture me about that or I might start bringing up Nexus," Dolph countered.

Punk only grinned and conceded the point with a nod. "Why would you tell me that? If you agreed not to tell anyone for her?"

Dolph shrugged. "I'd like to be honest to the people that I…like." He grinned.

"You mean you think it'll make it easier to get into my pants?" He ignored the fact that he was a bit relieved that Dolph and Vickie weren't actually together. That led to dangerous thinking.

Dolph shook his head. "There's nothing easy about you. But, I do enjoy a challenge."

"You know this isn't going to end the way you want it to," Punk stated after a moment, feeling like he should after what Dolph had just told him and with the realization that they had just had a real conversation.

"Don't be so sure," Dolph said with a smirk.

Punk rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers in front of Dolph's face to get the man's attention away from his phone. "I'm serious. I don't do one night stands. I don't do casual sex."

Dolph paused and that did seem to grab his attention. "Ever?"

"Nope."

Dolph frowned for the first time. "Maybe that's not all I want."

"Don't start lying now, Ziggler."

Xxxxxxxx

Dolph didn't reply but his eyes narrowed and he was unsure of why he felt a bit of anger at what Punk was saying. After all, Punk was right, anyway. Dolph had made that bet with Randy because he thought Punk was hot and he enjoyed a challenge. But, he did usually get bored after the challenge was over.

"This 'no casual sex' stuff a part of the straight edge thing?" He asked a little curiously.

"Yes, it's a part of the straight edge thing," Punk answered, his gaze back on the monitor.

Dolph fell silent at that answer. This would be an even bigger challenge than he'd imagined and he squirmed a little when he thought about it. He was an asshole and a show off, he admitted that freely but even he had his limits.

Tricking another person into bed with him with lies about what might happen after that was something he simply didn't do. It complicated things way too much and, Dolph didn't have much of a conscious about most things, but hurting another person in that way had always seemed pretty pointless, especially when he never needed to do something like that.

Plus, doing that only led to lots of crying and anger. It led to slashed tires and phone calls he definitely didn't want. With Punk, it would probably lead to a few stiff kicks to the head…

He weighed his options for a moment. He could not lose this bet. He and Randy had set the terms pretty clear and losing just wasn't an option for him.

"What if I prove it?" He finally asked, drawing Punk's attention once again.

"Prove what?"

"That it's not just about sex."

Punk raised an eyebrow skeptically. "How are you going to do that?"

"I'll think of something." Dolph grinned, even as he felt a bit bad for saying it. But he'd made his decision. Losing wasn't an option.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Leaning against the wall in the hallway, Dolph watched Orton and Cena interact. It seemed Orton was a couple of steps ahead of him in the game and Dolph scowled at that. The conversation with Punk had put him in a bit of a bad mood to begin with, anyway.

He waited until Cena left and Orton was alone before he approached the man. "You know you're delusional, right?"

"What?" Orton turned a glare on him.

"You're delusional if you think this is going to work," Dolph said slowly.

"What the hell are you talking about, Ziggler?" Orton started down the hallway but Dolph didn't let him get away, walking beside him.

"I see the way you look at Cena. This is about more than just sex for you. What do you think is going to happen when he finds out this started because of our bet?"

"He's not going to find out," Orton protested stubbornly.

"He will find out and then he'll dump your ass," Dolph declared.

"Yeah? And what happens when Punk finds out?"

Dolph shrugged. "I don't do relationships, Orton. You're the one who's genuinely falling for your target."

Randy stopped at that and actually looked troubled for a moment before his expression cleared. "You're just trying to get me to back out of it."

Dolph shrugged. Orton wasn't wrong. "I'm just saying. He will hate you for it." He patted Randy on the shoulder before walking away.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Rolling his sore shoulder, Punk groaned a little as he made it into the locker room. His match had gotten a bit brutal and long and his muscles were aching already. He really wanted a shower and was hoping he could catch a couple of hours of sleep.

He was just digging into his bag to find some clothes when something was shoved into his face and he looked up.

"Seriously?" He asked incredulously, staring at Dolph as if he were crazy.

"Seriously," Dolph answered, holding out the gift. Punk didn't take it right away; instead he put his hands on his hips and eyed it skeptically.

"Pink flowers? Do I look like a twelve year old girl to you?"

Dolph grinned. "Just take them. You're going to hurt my feelings if you don't."

"I don't think that's possible," Punk grumbled but he took them anyway, hoped Dolph had only gotten them as a joke but this was the man who went out to the ring with pink shirts tucked into his trunks.

"So, you have to go out with me now," Dolph declared.

"What makes you think that?" Punk set the flowers down so he could pull his clothes out.

"You took the flowers, didn't you? And I went to all that trouble to get them. Which means that we should go out now."

"I can give them back if you want," Punk offered, started unwrapping his wrist tape.

"Come on, I told you I'd prove it to you. You should give me the opportunity to try."

"I told you, I'm not-"

"I'm just asking to go out," Dolph interrupted him with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not asking you to come back to my hotel room…yet."

Punk eyed him warily. "I'm not going out tonight."

"Tomorrow then," Dolph suggested with a shrug. "You know I'm not going to leave you alone until you say yes."

"This how you always get dates? Bug the shit out of someone until they give in?"

"Are you kidding? Look at me. I don't usually have to work so hard to get a date."

Punk almost smiled at that. "Alright, fine."

Dolph's smile brightened considerably at his answer.


	9. Parallels

_Parallels_

"Oh, yeah. Let's go check out the pipe. That sounds like a good idea." Punk gaze was focused on the screen in front of him and he rolled his eyes at what was going on.

Dolph grinned. "Why do you watch this if you're just going to mock it?"

"I watch this shit _so _I can mock it," Punk answered. He was sitting sideways on the couch, back against the arm rest as they watched the horror movie. Dolph was slouched down at the other end.

"I'm changing it," Dolph warned him, flipping through the channels without waiting for an answer. They had gone out earlier to grab something to eat and Dolph had had fun doing so. Somehow, they'd ended up back at his hotel room, even though they hadn't ended up doing anything but watch TV so far.

Dolph grinned when he found TNA Impact on and Punk groaned. "There is no way I'm sitting through this."

"Oh, come on. You used to work for them, didn't you?"

Punk scowled. "Turn it," he said, kicking Dolph lightly with the foot that was resting near Dolph's thigh.

"No."

"Ziggler…" There was a warning in Punk's voice that only made Dolph's grin widen.

"Nope."

Punk lunged for him then and Dolph held the remote away, keeping Punk back with his free hand. "Alright! I'll change it under one condition."

"What would that be?" Punk asked warily.

"You call me by my first name," Dolph stated firmly.

"You want me to call you Dolph?" Punk made a face at that.

"Or you could call me Nick," Dolph offered with a shrug. Punk stilled at the suggestion and his eyes narrowed.

"I guess I can call you Dolph." Punk leaned back into his original sitting position.

"What's wrong with using my real name?" Dolph asked, even as he knew the answer. Punk had been wrestling for years, he'd grown up watching the old school stuff and Dolph knew how he felt about that kind of stuff. It was the same way most of the older wrestlers felt about it.

"Thought you were going to change the channel," Punk said, gesturing towards the TV. "And we definitely aren't close enough for that."

Dolph sighed but gave up on the request. It was a personal thing, he knew and Punk wouldn't allow anyone to call him by his first name unless they were close on a personal level. He shook himself. He probably shouldn't be getting that personal anyway.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"Oh, come on! Really?"

Randy watched John in amusement as he yelled at the television screen. They'd been flipping through the channels, talking idly before he'd stopped on some horror movie.

"So, I take it you don't like horror movies, huh?" Randy asked with a small smile.

"They're alright. The newer ones are just so cheesy. All gore, no scare," John said with a shrug.

"Yeah." Randy settled back in his seat. "I used to have a major crush on that dude form the Evil Dead movies," he admitted with a bit of a sheepish glance.

"Really?" John asked, highly amused. "How long have you known you were into guys?"

"A while. Actually, my mom figured it out before I did."

"And your parents were okay with it?" John questioned.

"Yeah, pretty much. Yours?"

John grinned. "Yeah. My parents are great. So are my brothers, actually."

"Good."

"Yeah." John settled even further into the couch and sighed. "I prefer comedies, actually."

"That doesn't surprise me," Randy responded dryly. "Let me guess, stupid comedies? Dude, Where's My Car?" He affected his best stoner voice.

John mock glared at him. "I'll have you know that I like very sophisticated comedies….like Dumb and Dumber."

Randy chuckled. "Good to know."

Xxxxxxxxxx

"The Cubs, really?" Dolph questioned, throwing the weathered hat at Punk, who caught it with a glare.

"I'm from Chicago, asshole," Punk answered, putting the hat back on his head. "Of course, the Cubs."

Dolph wrinkled his nose. "I kind of feel sorry for you now."

"Why? They are going to the World Series in 2015. The prophesy will come true," Punk stated vehemently.

"What prophesy?" Dolph asked incredulously, eyes widening.

"Don't tell me you've never seen Back to the Future?"

"Of course I have," Dolph said with a roll of his eyes. "That doesn't mean it's going to happen."

"Stop killing my dreams here. It will happen," Punk said firmly, with a grin.

Dolph laughed in response and reached over to pull Punk's cap down over his eyes. "Sure it will."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"Fuck, John. I kind of hate rap music," Randy said, grabbing the remote to turn it off of MTV. He hadn't even thought they played music on that channel anymore.

"Really? I don't know if I can like you for that," John said, with a mock serious face.

Randy snorted. "Right. You're going to ditch me because I don't like rap."

"Maybe," John said. "What kind of music do you like?"

Randy shrugged. "I like lots of old rock, actually."

"Don't tell me you're one of those hipsters that like to complain about anything that's new just because it's new?" John asked with some amusement.

"Of course not. I like to complain because it sucks," Randy answered with a smirk.

John only laughed in response.

Xxxxxxxxxx

John woke up slowly, aware first of the awkward position he was in and of the warm body pressed against him. He lifted his head immediately from where it had been resting against Randy's shoulder and stared at the other man.

He didn't remember falling asleep. He remembered talking to Randy late into the night, however. He hadn't planned on staying in Randy's hotel room for so long but he'd been having fun. When he wasn't kicking people in the head, Randy was actually a pretty great guy to hang out with.

And, despite the awkward position, he'd slept pretty well against Randy. He did not want to analyze that but it was hard not to acknowledge the facts. The fact that his crush on Randy might be growing. The fact that he did like being near Randy. The fact that he had slept well next to Randy.

Xxxxxxxxx

Punk woke up with a jerk and a groan. He lay still for a few minutes, attempted to calm down. He had no idea what he'd been dreaming about but nightmares weren't uncommon when he did manage to sleep. And, he realized, when he opened his eyes and spotted the clock on the wall, he had managed a few hours.

He was curled up on his side on the couch, his head resting against something warm, only realized that it was Dolph's thigh when he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He didn't remember moving into that position, must have done it after falling asleep.

He and Ziggler had stayed up pretty late talking and Punk did like the guy even more afterwards. It was a problem, he guessed. He hadn't planned on something like this happening. He hadn't even planned on having Dolph in his hotel room the night before.

But he also couldn't ignore the fact that he did like Dolph and that he had managed to get some sleep next to Dolph.

Xxxxxxxxx

Heard CM Punk talking about the "prophesy of Back to the Future 2" during an interview once and thought it was pretty funny…


	10. No Pants? No Problem

The title is a quote from one of Punk's recent interviews when he showed up in shorts and claimed he'd lost his pants…..

_I seem to have misplaced my pants_

"Are you wearing pink?"

The question came from John as soon as he looked up to see Punk walk over for their tag match. He'd been waiting behind the curtain for Punk. Ziggler and Swagger had not shown up yet. Punk crossed his arms and stood shoulder to shoulder with John.

"He thought I wouldn't do it," Punk said, staring straight ahead, waiting for them to be called.

"Who? Ziggler?"

Before Punk could answer, John's attention was caught by Ziggler and Swagger, who had both walked up as well. Ziggler looked decidedly disgruntled and a smirk had formed on Punk's face, even though he hadn't looked over himself.

"Jesus." John put a hand on his forehead in exasperation. "Are you guys actually daring each other now?"

"He seems to have forgotten that I've worn far worse things down to the ring." He paused and raised an eyebrow at Ziggler. "What are you scowling at? Haven't you worn a miniskirt and a sports bra down once? This isn't worse than that."

John leaned close to Punk, and gestured to the outfit Ziggler was wearing, to the tights and what looked like a kite on his back. "Uh…I think you're forgetting that not everyone reads comic books like you do."

Punk only shrugged in response. "I know. But it's amusing to me. Look, you really are one of the worst villains ever, you know?"

John shook his head, rolled his eyes and decided not to comment further on that.

Xxxxxxxxxx

It started on the morning Punk had woken up next to Ziggler on the couch. He hadn't left immediately. Instead, he'd stayed and spent hours with Dolph, who had proclaimed that he was starving and then they'd ordered enough food to feed an army.

Breakfast had turned into a game of "I dare you to eat that" which had turned into a game of "I bet I can eat more than you" which had turned into a game of "I dare you to do this", "I bet you won't watch this"….

It was extremely juvenile. In fact, there were several times that that voice in the back of his head reminded him that he _was _thirty three years old but Punk mostly ignored it. Because, well, he was having fun, no matter how juvenile it was.

So, of course, when the next house show arrived and they were scheduled in a tag match against each other, it had to turn into "I dare you to wear this".

Xxxxxxxxxx

When Punk made it back to the locker room, he was certain that both Swagger and Cena thought he and Dolph were insane. Punk may have bet Dolph he wouldn't do a flying leap off the top rope with the kite on his back.

He was also certain that either he or Dolph, or both of them, would probably be getting a call from someone about their performance. They had a little leeway, at least. It was a house show….

When he got back to the locker room, he found that Dolph had one upped him. His bag was missing, in its place a note that read _Dare you. _

Fifteen minutes later, Punk was marching through the hotel lobby in pink trunks, pink kick pads and boots, wrist tape and nothing else. He'd gotten a fair amount of stares on his way into the hotel, of course and he'd made it to the elevator before he was stopped.

"Uh…sir?" One of the employees asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah, sorry." Punk gestured to himself. "I seem to have misplaced my pants. You know, I think they are in my room." He skirted past her before the shock could turn to anger and got into the elevator.

He made it to Dolph's room without getting stopped again and scowled at the man when he answered the door. "You're going to get me kicked out of here."

"Do you care?" Dolph grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. He looked Punk over. "You look really hot."

"You have a sick obsession with pink. You should probably get some help for that," Punk commented, grabbing his bag from Dolph's floor and sitting it on Dolph's bed so that he could dig through it.

"Wait." Dolph grabbed his arm and turned Punk towards him. He paused, looked Punk over once again. "I dare you to kiss me."

"Are we really going to do that this way?" Punk asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, we really are."

Punk seemed to consider this a moment but simply shrugged and reached for Dolph, pulling him into a kiss. It almost immediately became heated. They'd been teasing each other for weeks, after all. Dolph pulled Punk almost impossibly close and his hands roamed.

And, as Punk pulled Dolph down on the bed on top of him, Dolph's last thought was _I win _but he wasn't thinking of any wager at that moment.


	11. Meanwhile

_Meanwhile, at the exact same time, at some other location…_

John was smiling when he made it to the arena for the house show. He'd had a good week, he supposed and he was more than ready to admit that it was mostly due to Randy. After waking up next to Randy on that couch, he'd stayed several hours and they'd talked more.

In fact, John had had a great time with Randy. They'd ate breakfast and gone out, spent a lot of time together.

Randy was supposed to be there for the house show. He wasn't scheduled to compete at it but he'd asked John if he could be there, if they could go out after it and John had agreed pretty easily. He couldn't ignore it any longer, couldn't ignore the growing attraction or that Randy had been telling the truth. He was a different person.

"Hey," Randy said when he made it to the locker room.

"Hey, you're here," John said with a grin.

"I said I would be," Randy pointed out. "I figured I could wait here and we could go out after your match."

"Sounds good to me," John answered. He was scheduled for a tag match with Punk.

"I still don't get why you're friends with that guy," Randy commented when John told him about the match, watching John as he laced up his shoes.

John's smile only widened. "Yeah, he doesn't get why I would want to hang out with you either."

The tag match was one big mess, mostly due to Punk and Ziggler and their continued games with each other. Although, watching Ziggler jump off the top rope with a kite on his back had been pretty damned funny, even if he didn't read comics, so hadn't known the exact significance of that particular costume.

Also, he may have landed a bit wrong on the outside when Swagger back dropped him over the top rope. He got right back up, did his best to ignore the pain in his back, knew he'd managed it when Punk didn't catch on that he was in pain.

Mercifully, the match ended quickly after that and he was able to escape back into his locker room. He immediately sat on the bench, reaching around with one hand on his back, a groan escaping him.

"You okay?"

Randy's voice startled him and he looked up, forced a smile. "Yeah, just tweaked my back a bit."

Randy's brow furrowed in concern. "We don't have to go out," he offered, sitting next to John and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"No, no. I'm fine." But he let out a hiss when he tried to straighten up again and Randy rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, sure. We're going back to the hotel."

John chewed his lip and looked over at him. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Randy said with a smile. "You need some help with your shirt?" He offered, the concern still shining in his eyes, causing John's smile to return.

"It's not that bad." In fact, he managed a shower and getting dressed on his own. His muscles were decidedly sore by the time they made it back to the hotel, though.

"You want to come up to my room?" Randy offered, and there was that hopeful look in his eyes. The one that John simply couldn't say no to.

"Sure."

Fifteen minutes later, John was stretched out on his stomach on Randy's bed while they watched a football game on TV. Randy, John thought, wasn't as into the sport as he was but he'd settled onto it anyway, John suspected because Randy knew he was into it.

He had reached back again, to press on his lower back when Randy spoke up. "You want me to do something for that?" He offered.

"What can you do for it?" John asked curiously and was surprised when Randy moved over to him.

"Take off your shirt," Randy requested first.

"What?" John nearly choked on the word.

"Trust me."

John studied him a moment, considered this before he sat up and pulled off his shirt. Strangely enough, he did trust Randy. Randy had proven that he could wait, had proven that he wasn't as unstable as John thought he was.

Still, he was once again surprised when, after he lay back down on his stomach, Randy crawled on top of him, settling back on John's thighs. Then his hands were on John's back, kneading the muscles there and John closed his eyes with a groan.

Randy's hands worked their way up and down John's back, working out the ache in his muscles and John wondered just where Randy had learned to do that because he was most definitely good at it. John was fully relaxed when Randy put a hand on his shoulder and turned him over on his back.

Randy hovered over him, his eyes full of an emotion that John definitely understood. "John…" He leaned close then, his lips brushing John's lightly before he started to pull away.

John, however, relaxed from the message and finally admitting to himself that this thing with Randy might not be as bad of an idea as he had thought it would be brought his hands up to the side of Randy's face and pulled him back down.

The kiss was slow but deep and John's hands trailed down Randy's back. Randy pulled away only to take his own shirt off and his own hands trailed down John's chest, his stomach, down towards his pants.

There was a question in his eyes when he reached John's belt buckle and, when John nodded, he dipped back down. The last thought on his mind was _I win _but he wasn't thinking of the wager at that moment.


	12. Hurt

This chapter is a lot more angsty than my others but I guess it had to be, considering. Oh, and thanks to everyone who's stuck with this story so far. I've had great fun writing it so far.

_Hurt With No Comfort_

Dolph was awake, and staring up at the ceiling. He was alone in the hotel room but the note that had been left on the pillow on the other side suggested that that wouldn't be the case for long. He'd been awake for about fifteen minutes and had yet to move from the spot he had woken up in.

He was still wondering if he should be gone before Punk got back. He was still wondering how he had gotten so caught up. He was wondering how he had let that guilt invade his chest. Because it had settled there was now refusing to leave.

He'd won the bet with Orton last night. He'd successfully gotten Punk in bed. He'd never felt so miserable after _winning _a bet.

He was an idiot. He actually _liked _Punk. With a frown he got up and got dressed quickly. He was just sitting down on the edge of the bed to pull on his shoes when Punk came into the room, carrying a bag in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. He kicked the door closed.

"Hey," he said, throwing the bag to Dolph, who caught it and glanced inside to see the breakfast food there.

"Hey, how long you been up?" Dolph set the food aside but accepted the coffee. His stomach was tied in too many knots to eat anything.

"A while," Punk answered with a shrug. "You should probably know I never sleep."

"Yeah." Dolph looked him over. In a pair of shorts, a faded tee-shirt, and a baseball cap he almost looked as good as he had last night in the pink.

"Well, I should probably go…get in a workout before the show tonight…" Dolph began lacing up his shoes again. He didn't meet Punk's gaze as he said it, something Punk noticed. He was frowning when Dolph looked up at him.

"You want me to come with? I was going to go for a run but I usually end up at the gym anyway."

"Naw. That's alright. You can go run if you want. I'll just-" He cut himself off, gestured to the door.

"You aren't bailing on me, are you?" Punk asked.

Dolph stilled at the question and he knew that it was probably a good idea to answer that with a yes. He didn't do relationships. Also, he knew that if his bet with Orton ever came out, that Punk would possibly hate him for it.

But, unexpectedly, it had turned into something more than just a physical attraction. _You remember why you don't do relationships. _And you couldn't build a relationship on a lie, anyway. He had apparently been silent for too long because Punk spoke up again.

"Right," he said and shook his head. "I'm an idiot."

Dolph squirmed when he saw the flash of actual pain in Punk's expression. "I'm sorry," he blurted out, grabbing up his stuff, the undeniable urge to run fighting with the urge to continue the lie, to do anything to wipe that mixture of pain, anger, and embarrassment from Punk's expression.

In the end, he ran, left Punk in the hotel room alone the new sense of regret, guilt following him the whole way.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Randy was awake and staring up at the ceiling. He'd been awake for at least fifteen minutes, lost in thought. The heavy arm draped around his midsection hadn't moved since he'd woken up. John hadn't stirred.

Last night had been amazing. He'd completely lost himself in John and his initial attraction to John had turned into something much, much more. It had even before last night. He'd acknowledged that when he'd first woken up and had been swimming in guilt because of it since.

His stomach rolled every time his mind drifted to his bet with Ziggler. He'd won but he didn't feel like he'd won anything. He felt like more of an asshole than he ever had in his life and he'd done some really nasty things in his life.

He'd been falling hard for John since they'd been hanging out, since he'd made that bet with Ziggler. And what would John think if he ever found out?

Randy turned so that he could wrap John up in his arms at the thought. John stirred at the action and finally opened his eyes, that grin spreading across his face, and Randy smiled back, hoped John couldn't see the guilt in his eyes.

"Hey," John said.

"Hey." Randy kissed him softly, even as he suddenly felt like he might not deserve to. John must have seen something in his expression when he pulled back.

"You alright?"

"Yeah…fine." Randy pulled away from him and sat up, reaching for his discarded pants. John sat up as well, his grin turning into a frown.

"You aren't leaving, are you?"

Randy jerked back around. "No, I'm not leaving," he answered immediately, making a decision right then, at the look on John's face. He really was falling for John and he couldn't just leave. He'd just have to make sure John didn't find out about the bet.

Xxxxxxxxx

With a smile on his face, John went downstairs towards the hotel lobby. He'd offered to go find some breakfast. He was rather happy. He'd been wary about Randy before but their growing relationship had proven to him that he'd been wrong. And the fact that Randy had stayed in the morning.

In fact they had stayed up for a long while after together, talking before John had offered to go get breakfast.

He was almost out the door when he spotted Punk coming inside. Obviously just back from a run, his shirt was drenched in sweat, and he was breathing like he'd just sprinted five miles.

"Hey," John said, the smile still on his face. And he was startled by the look on Punk's face when he lifted his head.

"John," Punk said shortly before starting away again. John's smile had turned into a frown of concern and he reached out to grab Punk's shoulder, stopping his progress.

"What's wrong?"

Punk pulled away from his reach. "Nothing," Punk answered, his words clipped.

"Yeah, right." John glanced around the lobby, to the people there and grabbed Punk's arm, pulling him to a more private corner. "You're pissed off…" He didn't say anything about the hurt he could see in Punk's eyes. That would likely get him nothing but a cussing.

"Ziggler bailed," Punk blurted out, his eyes drifting around the place like he was afraid someone would overhear.

"What?" John asked, a bit confused.

"He bailed," Punk repeated, finally meeting John's gaze again. "I let him fuck me, then he bailed. Happy now?" He turned and started away once again.

"Shit," John whispered before he ran to catch up with Punk, made it into the elevator just as Punk did. Punk leaned back against the wall and glared at John.

"I don't need a babysitter."

"I'm not a babysitter," John protested. "Thought I was a friend."

"Whatever."

Xxxxxxxxx

Randy was walking with a purpose. He'd made a decision after that morning. John hadn't made it back to his hotel room. He'd sent a text explaining that he'd run into a friend that needed help and the way that John had apologized profusely in the text had Randy not even questioning it.

Randy's lips thinned when he finally spotted Ziggler in the halls. He was standing with Swagger and Vickie. Randy didn't hesitate. He went straight over to them and grabbed Ziggler's arm.

"I need to borrow him a moment," he said with a glare in Swagger's direction. The look on his face stopped even Vickie from protesting and he dragged Ziggler away, pulling him into an empty room.

"We need to talk."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Punk had been walking backstage and passed by the room with the ajar door when he'd overheard the conversation. He'd finally managed to ditch John, who had stayed in his room for far too long with that damned concerned look on his face. He got that John was just trying to be a good friend but he had not wanted to rehash how much of an idiot he'd been.

Really, he hadn't wanted to talk about it. He was angry, sure, but he also felt incredibly stupid for letting Ziggler get to him, for caving to something that he should have known not to. He'd been so sure, when Ziggler had first started coming after him, that all the guy wanted was sex. Why had he ever thought differently? Just because Ziggler had said it wasn't just about that?

And the most screwed up part about it was that he actually did like Ziggler. He hadn't had such an attraction for someone in a long time and he'd let that get to him. He'd actually thought that Ziggler felt the same way, at least after a while.

He'd been walking an empty hallway and just passed by the door when he heard Ziggler's voice.

"_So, we both won. Fine. What do you we do now_?"

"_Nothing. No one can find out about this_."

Punk had been about to keep on walking but he stopped short and frowned at the sound of Orton's voice.

"_Oh, you mean you don't want John to find out that this thing with you guys started because of a bet_?"

That definitely stopped him and Punk stepped closer to the door.

"_If you don't want Punk to find out that you guys started because of the same thing, I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you." _

Punk drew back at those words and raked one shaking hand through his hair. The anger had turned into rage. Not only had Ziggler been fucking with him the whole time, but Randy had been doing the same with John.

The rest of the conversation was along the same lines and the rage burning through Punk's veins only heightened with each word he overheard. Still, he skirted around a corner when Ziggler and Orton were about to come out into the hallway.

Fists clenched so tightly that his nails bit into his palms, Punk started away as well after Orton and Ziggler had cleared out. The fact that both Orton and Ziggler had played him and John burned. The fact that Orton still planned on staying _with _John…

Oh, they were both going to _pay. _


	13. Revenge

I'm not entirely sure how this chapter turned out. The angst factor stalled me for a bit. I was updating a lot easier before I got to the angsty parts, I guess but I hope you guys like this one.

Xxxxxxxxx

_A Revenge Plot_

"Are you going to tell me what you wanted to talk about?" John asked finally, watching Punk worriedly. He was sitting on the edge of his bed in his hotel room, watching Punk pace. John could practically see the rage rolling off him and he seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

Or in his schemes. John didn't exactly like the look on Punk's face. It reminded him of the look he'd seen when Punk had been leading Nexus. That light in his eyes that John had seen up close on more than one occasion and always kind of worried him.

"Hey," John called when Punk did not answer him. "What's going on in your head?" He'd often wondered that as well. The smile that spread across Punk's face was devoid of humor and gave John pause.

He'd been a bit concerned since Punk had told him that Ziggler had bailed on him. A bit concerned and more than surprised. He didn't know Ziggler well and he didn't particularly like the guy but he'd seen how Punk and Ziggler acted around each other. He'd seen how Ziggler acted around Punk. He was sure that Ziggler genuinely liked Punk.

"I think I have an idea," Punk said in a low voice, with an undercurrent of satisfaction in his tone.

"About what?" John asked warily.

"About Ziggler…"

John sighed. He should have expected it. "Maybe you should let this go," he suggested hesitantly. He didn't want Punk going off and doing something stupid. Considering how much Punk had changed over the last several months, John sometimes forgot just how vindictive and downright vicious Punk could be when he wanted.

Punk seemed to hesitate a moment and the look he shot John next was almost apologetic. "Look, I overheard a conversation earlier. Between Ziggler and Orton…"

John stiffened at this. "Randy was talking to Ziggler?" He and Randy had had a great day. They had spent some time at the arena together as well. Now, Punk really did look sorry and trepidation welled up in John.

"Yeah." His anger on hold, Punk looked downright uncomfortable as he turned to fully face John. "I don't think you're going to like this…"

"Just tell me," John demanded through gritted teeth. Punk had happily done some pretty damn despicable things without any regret whatsoever. It always worried him when he could see that in Punk's eyes.

"Apparently, Ziggler and Orton made this bet before they started coming after us…"

John listened as Punk repeated the conversation he'd overheard. By the time he was finished, pain and anger had settled into John's chest and he sat, silent, for several minutes after Punk was finished.

"John-"

He held up a hand, cut Punk off. "So this all started because of a lie, huh?"

"Looks like."

John nodded and his own anger hiked up a few notches. He really hated lies. He hated liars. It was the worst thing, at least to him. Maybe that was why he and Punk got along as well as they did. The man never lied.

"Look, I know revenge isn't really your thing-" Punk started but John cut him off once again.

"What's your plan?"

Xxxxxxxxx

"No one is going to believe this," John said adamantly as he and Punk made their way from the parking lot towards the arena.

"You're kidding me, right? Half the locker room already believes it," Punk protested and an incredulous look.

"What?" John stared at him in shock.

"Come on, Cena. You keep showing up at my hotel room in the middle of the night to talk, what do you thinks' going to happen? This place has more rumors than high school."

"Yeah….but this one is so ridiculous. I mean…" He shook his head.

There was a sadistic little grin on Punk's face. "I don't think we'd even have to do much, do you? I mean, the rumors are already there. We'd just have to spread them out a bit more."

"I still can't believe I'm agreeing to this," John commented with a groan. He had known that anything Punk came up with wouldn't simply involve kicking Ziggler and Randy's asses but still…

"Well, if you want to back out…" Punk offered a bit hesitantly. "I'm pretty sure this is only going to hurt Orton anyway."

John rolled his eyes and refrained from arguing over that statement. Punk had been convinced that Ziggler didn't really give a damn about him since Ziggler had bailed on him. John may have been blind, as Punk sometimes liked to point out, but even he could see that that probably wasn't entirely the case.

"I don't want to back out." Revenge really wasn't his style but maybe he could get something out of this…

The pain and anger that had settled over him just refused to leave but he was also sure that Randy had meant everything that he'd said earlier that morning. That, more than anything, was what was screwing with his head.

He kind of wished that Randy had bailed on him the same way Ziggler had on Punk. The fact that Randy had stayed somehow made it harder, made him question everything just a little bit more.

Punk was eyeing him and seemed to interpret his expression. "I can do this without you," he offered once again.

"Let's just go," John said, picking up his pace.

Xxxxxxxxx

Randy was beginning to get a little worried. John wasn't answering his phone and he couldn't find the man at the arena even though he had searched for him. John was avoiding him. In fact, he didn't see John at all before or during the show but he did hear the rumors.

He didn't pay attention to them at first because he'd heard them before and had known they weren't true but when he received what was supposed to be first hand confirmation, the worry increased.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Dolph was hardly paying attention to Vickie and Jack. He was distracted, had been since he'd ran out of Punk's hotel room and couldn't seem to get back into his normal headspace. He kept telling himself that he'd done the right thing but he was scheduled for a match against Punk at the next house show and he knew that Punk was probably going to try and make him pay for it.

A slap on his shoulder drew his attention and he glared at Jack. "What?"

"Thought you and Punk were…you know…" He made a vague gesture.

"You know?" Dolph repeated. "You mean dating? Fucking?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "All of that, yeah."

"We're not," Dolph stated shortly. "Why?"

Jack shrugged. "Just saw him and Cena earlier. They looked pretty cozy."

Dolph scoffed and shook his head. "They're friends."

"Didn't look like they were just friends to me."

"Whatever." Dolph sighed. He'd heard that rumor before and had never believed it. As much time as Cena and Punk seemed to spend with each other, Dolph had always been pretty sure that it never went past friendship.

"I'm serious," Jack insisted. "They looked like they were all over each other."

Dolph shrugged. "Why would I care about that?" He asked, keeping his tone uninterested but Jack did sound very sure of himself.

"I saw it too," Vickie spoke up. "Weird, if you ask me. I never believed those rumors before."

"Don't care," Dolph repeated even as he looked away from both of them and his stomach clenched painfully. As loud and annoying-and bitchy-as Vickie was whenever she was in front of a camera, she usually never bought into the rumors that always ran rampant backstage.

She could be surprisingly perceptive about that sort of thing and she definitely liked using it to her advantage. If she believed it…

There was a shocking amount of jealousy and pain that invaded his chest at the very thought of Punk with somebody else. Both of which he shouldn't feel, and he didn't deserve to feel. He'd ended things…and it _had _been the right decision.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

John looked pretty miserable. While Punk was mostly severely pissed off about this mess, he couldn't help but to feel sorry for John. Most times, their friendship consisted of banter and making fun of each other but when it came down to it; John really was a good friend.

John had also seemed pretty happy before Punk had told him about that conversation he'd overheard and he was pretty sure that Orton actually did have legitimate feelings for John. He'd seen it in Orton's expression before and even heard it in that conversation.

He was pissed…and, okay, a bit hurt if he was honest…but seeing John so miserable had him reevaluating a few things. It was almost unnatural, John being that miserable. Most times he was so happy, so optimistic and nice…

While he still planned on beating the shit out of Ziggler before trying to get over the fact that he might have been falling for the guy, maybe just beating the shit out of Orton wasn't all that they needed to do. And maybe this plan could work in John's favor anyway.

If Orton really did have feelings for John, and if he really did regret making that bet with Ziggler, the rumors they had just started would most likely reveal that.

If he was honest too, it did kind of hurt to think that way. That maybe Orton did regret making that bet while Ziggler didn't. That maybe Orton might actually have feelings for John while Ziggler had only wanted to get Punk in bed.


	14. Confrontation

_A Couple of Confrontations_

Dolph was not happy. He was standing in one corner of the ring, alone this time, and staring across to where Punk knelt in the opposite corner. The expression on Punk's face worried him.

Being scheduled in a match against Punk just after he had ditched the man wasn't exactly ideal. There was a fierce look in Punk's eyes when he finally stood from the corner and Dolph was pretty sure that he was in trouble.

The rumors that had started backstage were distracting him as well. Rumors that were accompanied by evidence this time that made them not so much just rumors any longer. Dolph did not want to believe them.

When the bell rang and Punk immediately threw a hard kick to his gut, he doubled over, caught the rage dancing in Punk's eyes and _knew _he was in trouble.

Xxxxxxxx

Randy found John in the hotel. If he was honest, John had been expecting the confrontation much earlier. Like just after the rumors had started. He and Punk had perpetuated those rumors, made them solid.

The last time John had spoken to them they'd been fine. Great even. John hadn't been able to force himself to face Randy just yet. The confrontation was sure to be a messy one and John hadn't yet wanted to deal with it. But he didn't have a choice when he'd made it to his hotel room and Randy stopped him just as he was unlocking his door.

"Can we talk?" Randy asked as John opened the door. John simply nodded and stepped into the room, creating space between the two of them when Randy tried to step closer to him.

"What's up?" He asked, trying to keep his tone calm, even.

"Is there something wrong?" Randy asked first, finally giving up when John moved away from him again.

"Why would there be something wrong?" The hint of anger mixed with sarcasm in John's tone caused a frown to form on Randy's face.

"You've been…" Randy trailed off, paused a moment. "There's this rumor…"

"You mean the one about me and Punk?" John asked. "Maybe that's not a rumor," he suggested with a shrug.

"What?"

"Maybe it's not a rumor," John repeated slowly, all his anger coming back, building. "Maybe I decided you weren't good enough."

"But-"

"But what?" John cut him off, his tone turning mocking and he spoke without thinking, the uncharacteristic words coming out of his mouth due to the rage boiling over. For a moment, he really did hate Randy. Randy had played him, lied to him.

"Maybe I should thank you. I mean, we had a good time, sure, but that's it, right? Maybe it just wasn't good enough. What did you think? That we'd be together after that?"

Randy actually flinched at his words before his eyes narrowed and John saw anger in them. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Oh, no. Don't you dare get angry with me," John growled, taking a few steps closer to him. "You don't have the right. You don't get to act innocent here. Not after what you did."

"What exactly did I do, John?" Randy asked, closing the remaining distance between them.

"You know." He paused a moment, considered what he should say next but in the end, he had to be straight forward. He had to get it all out and in the open. "You and Ziggler? Your little bet?"

Randy paled, his eyes widened. "John-"

"I really do need to thank you, Randy," John interrupted. "If you weren't stupid enough to talk about it with Ziggler where someone could overhear, I might not have known. I might have made the massive mistake of thinking that you actually had changed from the complete asshole you've always been."

"John, I-"

"I really don't want to hear what you have to say. You can go now."

Xxxxxxxx

Dolph groaned as he made it back to the hotel. It was late, later than usual. Punk had drawn their match out. Dolph had been so distracted, had been put so off balance that he had lost easier than normal. Plus, Punk had been rather vicious. More so than normal.

Dolph figured he'd be feeling the effects from the match for a couple of days. It seemed that Punk still wasn't happy with him after what had gone down. Dolph wanted to be angry at the bruises he knew he'd acquired but he couldn't be.

He only felt guilty. A new emotion for him, one he hadn't felt in a long time anyway. But the anger and even hatred that he'd seen flash in Punk's eyes had surprised him. After the rumors that he'd heard about, he had been dreading the indifference he'd expected to see.

But it seemed he had had an effect on Punk. A strong one, too, if the ache in his joints was any indication. Dolph paused in the lobby when he spotted Punk a moment later, waiting on the elevator. He waited until the elevator doors opened and then ran to catch up with the man, making it inside just as the doors closed.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Punk asked right away.

Dolph shook his head. "What does it look like?"

"What do you want?" Punk asked with a sigh, leaning against the wall of the elevator, watching him with an unreadable look.

"I want…" He trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. He'd made the decision to leave. He'd convinced himself that it was the right one.

But ever since he'd heard those rumors about Punk and Cena all he'd been able to think about was Punk. He'd been thinking about it so much that he hadn't brought his best during their match and he knew it.

Reaching over, he pressed the button to stop the elevator and he spoke without thinking. "I heard the rumors about you and Cena."

"And?" Punk raised an eyebrow, arms crossed and waiting.

"Figured they weren't true. You and Cena…"

"What? They couldn't possibly be true? What the hell do you care, Ziggler?" He grinned without humor. "Maybe you were just so bad in bed that I needed to erase that memory with someone else."

"I am not bad in bed," Dolph protested, with a frown. "I get your pissed at me."

"I'm not pissed, Ziggler," Punk said, although the look in his eyes suggested otherwise. "You can go back to playing your games with someone else." He pushed Dolph aside, and pressed the button. The elevator began to move again.

"You're not pissed? Right. Look, I'm sorry," he blurted the words out before he could stop himself. He hadn't spoken those words in years.

Punk turned to him, and rage once again flashed in his eyes. "Sorry? You're sorry? For what, exactly?" He took a step closer to Dolph, until they were almost in each other's personal space.

"I-"

"This was all some game to you, wasn't it? Why would you be sorry? You and Orton planned it out, didn't you?" He put his hand flat on Dolph's chest and pushed him backwards just as the elevator doors opened. "Fuck off, Ziggler, and leave me the fuck alone or next time the EMT's will have to carry you from ringside."

He walked out the door then and Dolph stared after him, remaining still long after the doors closed and he was left alone in the elevator.


	15. Decision

Sorry for the wait on this one. I was having a bit of trouble with this fic.

Xxxxxxxx

_A Decision Made _

Randy paused at the entrance to the hotel bar when he spotted the blond sitting there, drink in front of him. Hesitating only briefly, Randy walked over to him. Ziggler did not speak to him and Randy waited until after he'd ordered his own drink until he turned to the man.

"So, I'm guessing things didn't work out for you either?"

Xxxxxxxx

John was still sitting on his bed when the knock came on his door and he cringed. He doubted it was Randy again, not after what he'd said. He'd surprised even himself with the outburst, with the harsh words he'd used. He was less surprised to see Punk standing there when he opened the door.

"Hey, so I think I screwed my own plan up," Punk said by way of greeting.

John shrugged. "Yeah, me too." He let Punk inside.

Xxxxxxxxx

"I don't get it." Ziggler was frowning as he said the words and Randy knew he'd had a fair amount to drink before Randy had found him. "I only do the casual thing. No commitments, no relationships…"

"Okay." Randy drained the rest of his beer. "But what don't you get?"

"He hates me," Ziggler stated and it looked as if he was pouting. "And I…"

Randy snorted. "Yeah, I figured that. You like him."

"I do not," Ziggler automatically protested.

Randy smirked. "Right. Sure you don't. That's why you're pouting at a hotel bar with me."

"I'm not pouting," Ziggler protested but Randy's smirk only widened. The look on his face definitely constituted a pout.

Xxxxxxxxx

"So you kicked his ass huh?" John asked distractedly. Punk had dropped down on his back on his bed and it didn't look like he'd be leaving anytime soon. John only sighed and sat near Punk's feet, leaning against the headboard.

"Yes," Punk answered shortly. "He's an asshole."

"An asshole that you really like," John pointed out. He'd seen it, seen the way that Punk had looked at Ziggler and he'd seen how Punk had reacted when Ziggler had bailed on him after they'd slept together.

"Liked," Punk corrected. John didn't argue but he doubted it was past tense just yet. Punk lifted himself up on his elbows. "You and Orton?"

"I kicked him out," John admitted.

"Right…good."

Oh, yeah. It was great, he thought as he caught the expression on Punk's face. They were both miserable.

Xxxxxxxxx

"I'm going to get him back," Randy said, a determined gleam in his eyes that was most likely brought on by the alcohol he had consumed since he had sat down at the bar.

"He hates you," Ziggler said, his words slurring a bit more than Randy's. He had, after all, been sitting there for quite a bit longer than Randy.

"He hated me before and got over it," Randy pointed out. "I'll get him back. What about you? You gonna get Punk back?"

"Told you before. I don't do relationships."

"But you're miserable and drunk in a bar. Which means that you like the guy more than you're saying and you probably want to get him back." Randy was pretty sure of that, confident that his words were facts.

Ziggler did pout then. "It doesn't matter. He'd never trust me." He pointed at Randy. "Cena's the forgiving one. He's a total sap who will probably take you back. Punk's a total cynic that doesn't like anybody."

"So, you'll have to work harder." Randy shrugged with a grin. "You gonna just give up?"

"I should."

"But you're not going to."

Xxxxxxxx

Dolph woke to a pounding headache and a fleeting memory of sitting at a bar with Randy Orton. He lay still for several minutes, trying to wait out the pain in his head. Still, he remembered the entire conversation he'd had with Orton.

He hated that Orton was right. He couldn't seem to let this thing with Punk go. It was beyond irritating. More so than that, though, he could swear that he actually felt a pain in his chest when Punk had blown him off.

Shaking his head, Dolph reached for his phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Yeah?" the voice was gruff with sleep but Dolph felt no guilt in waking his friend up.

"Jack, hey. I need you to do me a favor."

Xxxxxxxx

Randy paced the halls backstage, still debating with himself. His conversation with Ziggler from the night before had done nothing for him but put into greater focus what an idiot he'd been. He'd been called an asshole before, too many times to count but he'd never felt like such an asshole as he did when John had accused him of it.

He stopped, finally, in front of John's locker room. The show was winding down, coming to an end. John had already had his match and he might have already left but Randy knocked on the door anyway and let out a breath when John did answer it.

"What the hell do you want?" John glared at him but didn't immediately slam the door.

"I need to talk to you," Randy said, a note of pleading entering his voice. He had never been one to beg but right then, he thought he might just do that if it would mean John letting him inside.

"I don't need to talk to you," John answered, his glare not letting up. He started to close the door but Randy put his hand against it, stopping it.

"Please. I just need to explain. I promise, all I want to do is talk but please, you have to hear me out."

John frowned, studied him a moment. He must have seen something convincing in Randy's expression because after a few moments, he sighed and opened the door wider, stepping to the side to let Randy in.

Xxxxxxxxx

Dolph had decided, after explaining his plan to Jack, on the direct approach. He figured it might work best with Punk, who was always very direct himself. He had no doubt Punk was going to be severely pissed off about what he had planned but it was the only way he could think of to get Punk to listen to him.

So, he waited until after RAW, until after Punk's match. He waited until the man was heading towards the parking lot. The door was open to the room he was waiting in. He'd picked that room for a reason. The door was rather heavy and not completely wood. It would work. The room wasn't large but big enough to fit two people.

The room was in the hall that led directly towards the parking lot and he waited just inside to where no one would be able to see him until they were standing at the doorway until Punk passed it.

Aware that he was about to surprise the other man and that that could lead to a black eye or a broken nose, he executed his move swiftly. He stepped out of the room, reached for Punk and grabbed his arm, swinging towards the room automatically and shoving Punk inside.

Punk let out a noise of surprise but when Dolph closed the door and turned to him, he glared. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"I needed to talk to you," Dolph explained calmly.

"Go talk to the fucking wall, Ziggler," Punk growled. Dolph only shook his head and, after hearing what he'd been waiting for, he allowed Punk to push him aside and try to open the door. As he'd expected, it didn't budge.

Punk turned his glare back to Dolph. "Ziggler…" There was a threat, a warning in his voice but Dolph ignored it. He could picture Jack guarding the outside of the doorway after blocking it off. Jack wouldn't let them out until Dolph gave the say so.

"Like I said, we need to talk."


	16. The Closet

_In the Closet_

"Are you insane?"

Dolph shrugged at the question, at the fury dancing in Punk's eyes. "Maybe. But we won't be let out of here until I tell Jack to let us out."

"Until you say so?" Punk had put as much space as he could between them in the small room.

"That's right. So, you know. If you knock me out, we might be stuck in here."

The look on Punk's face turned speculative and he crossed his arms. "And if I get you to tell Swagger to let us out?"

He looked Dolph over as he said it and Dolph could practically hear what he was thinking. He wouldn't put it past the man to try out a few of his submission moves but Dolph held up his hands.

"Or you could just hear me out," he suggested.

Punk only considered this for a moment. "I think I like my idea better."

"Come on. Just give me a few minutes. Then, I promise, we can beat the shit out of each other if you want. I just need a few minutes."

Punk eyed him critically a moment and Dolph didn't know if it was the almost pleading note in his voice or if Punk was just humoring him until he could attack but he relented after a moment. His stance didn't relax but he did wave a hand in Dolph's direction.

"Fine. You have a few minutes. Then you're going to tell your buddy to let us out or I'm going to make you."

Xxxxxxxxx

Randy wasn't sure if he'd ever felt more restless than he did at that moment. John had sat down, was eyeing him with distrust shining in his eyes as he shifted on his feet in front of the man. He'd been thinking about this conversation since John had walked out on him and he still wasn't sure what to say to make things better between them, to convince John that he could trust him again. .

"If you're just going to stand there, I'm going to leave," John prompted him.

"Right." Randy paused, ran a hand over his face. "Look, I know I'm an asshole and an idiot."

"Not going to argue with you there," John said, leaning back on the bench and crossing his arms.

"I know I shouldn't have accepted that bet from Ziggler," he continued, ignoring the jab. "I'm not happy that I did but I had been planning on approaching you for a while before it."

John shook his head. "Oh, yeah? Then why didn't you?"

"Because I'm not good at this stuff, believe it or not. I'm great at hook ups, at flirting and getting people into bed. I suck when it comes to real feelings."

"Real feelings?" John asked incredulously. "You want me to believe you had real feelings for me?"

"Yes, I did. I do. I've never had a stable relationship. A real one. You know how I was before." He paused as he thought back to that. That guy who had kicked Vince McMahon in the head, who had gone after Stephanie McMahon, who had put plenty of the roster in the hospital, including the man sitting in front of him.

"And, what exactly does that mean? That you're still the same asshole you were back then?"

"No…or, at least, I'm trying not to be. I'm pissed at myself for the bet but…I think….I think I'm falling for you."

Xxxxxxxxxx

"I'm sorry," Dolph started off with and reflected that he'd never apologized so much in his life as he had since he and Punk had started this thing.

"Not good enough," Punk answered calmly. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, waiting.

"I'm a bad guy, I get it. I'm an asshole. I shouldn't have made the wager and I shouldn't have run out on you." He'd already decided on how to approach this, decided that blunt honesty was the only way to go.

"Right. Is this it? I told you to leave me the fuck alone, Ziggler. You should have just listened to me." Punk's voice was flat and he started to move away from the wall.

"I think I might love you," Dolph blurted out and he succeded in stopping Punk cold.

"What?" If anything, Punk sounded angrier.

"Well, I've never actually been in love before but I figure I might be heading down that road with you. Anybody else and I wouldn't have felt a thing when I walked out of that hotel room."

"You really are sick, aren't you?" Punk asked with a scowl. His arms dropped to his sides and his fists clenched.

"I'm not lying. I swear."

Xxxxxxxxxx

"You're falling for me?" John repeated the disbelief clear in his tone.

"Yes," Randy answered plainly.

John studied him a moment. "How the hell am I supposed to believe that?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure what to do to make you believe it but it is the truth. John, do you really think I'd still be here if this was just about that bet. You said Punk overheard mine and Ziggler's conversation. Didn't he tell you what we said to each other? I regret it and I just want to be with you now."

Xxxxxxxxx

"You're not lying? Really? Okay, then. I mean, you are a very trustworthy person, aren't you, Ziggler?"

"And you are too? Aren't you the guy that took over Nexus? The guy that terrorized Rey Mysterio's family? That decided to leave the company last year with the WWE title?"

"Oh, no. You don't get to turn this around on me. I may not be the nicest guy in the world but I am not the one who made that bet and I'm not the one who lies to get people in bed."

"I don't usually lie to get people in bed and why exactly are you so angry with me? You know, that hatred? It usually means I did have an effect on you."

"Wait, now I'm not allowed to be angry without 'feeling' something else for you? Let me clear it up for you, Ziggler. I'm not feeling anything right now but disgust."

"You're just as big a liar as I am. You felt something for me, I know you did or you wouldn't have even gone to bed with me."

"Maybe I did but whatever it was, it doesn't matter now."

Both Punk and Dolph stopped then. Punk had moved away from the wall during the little argument and they were standing almost nose to nose. The unfamiliar feeling of desperation welled up in Dolph and he spoke next without thinking.

"It has to matter. I can't leave here until you believe me." He was sure, finally that what he'd told Punk was the truth because he was sure that, in that moment, and he'd do almost anything to get Punk to listen to him.

Punk just backed up from him again. "Then we're going to be here for a while."

Xxxxxxxxxx

"I wanna believe you," John said quietly. "But I'm kind of getting tired of getting taken advantage of because I'm a 'nice guy'."

"Yeah, I get that too but I'm not trying to take advantage. These speeches are not something I'm great at but I like you, maybe even love you and I don't want to lose you. I realized that…"

John nodded and sighed. Randy looked sincere enough. But he had before as well. And John still did have feelings for him. They hadn't had nearly enough time to fade yet. He wasn't even sure now if he wanted them to fade.

"I need to think about this," he finally said, standing and shouldering his bag.

Randy nodded, accepting that. "Alright."

John left the room. He needed to find someone he could talk this out with. Someone who would be completely honest with him…

Xxxxxxxxx

"What do you want me to do?" Dolph spread his arms. "What exactly can I do?"

"You can let me out of here," Punk suggested, watching Dolph's reaction. He saw the barely visible flinch and the flash of what he could have sworn was hurt in Dolph's eyes.

In fact, Dolph's reactions had surprised him for the entire time they were in the tiny room. He'd seen Dolph cocky, sure of himself. This was the first time he'd seen Dolph flinch; the first time he'd seen that kind of sincerity in Dolph's expression.

The urge to beat Ziggler into the ground had faded pretty fast for him and he wasn't sure what to do with that. He wasn't a forgiving person, had never been. It just had never seemed to be in him. But Dolph had the ability to throw him off balance like nobody else. He'd started this conversation wanting to beat the hell out of the man and now…

"Let me out now," he demanded as calmly as he could. Dolph sighed and turned to the door to call for Jack.

Xxxxxxxx

John was just unlocking the door to his hotel room when Punk rounded the corner in the hall and headed straight for him. John didn't even say anything. He simply opened the door and let Punk inside.


	17. Forgiveness

Last chapter of this one, guys. Hope you like it.

xxxxxxx

"I think I'm getting soft," Punk said as soon as he dropped down on John's bed. John eyed him a moment.

"Soft?" He repeated.

"Yeah, you know. I think I'm getting too nice."

John rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Don't worry. You're still the biggest asshole I know."

Punk actually grinned at that. "Thanks."

John snorted and sat down against the headboard. He didn't talk for a minute, his mind on the conversation he'd had with Randy. Punk propped himself up on his elbows and eyed John a moment.

"You're going to forgive him, aren't you?"

"What? No…" He trailed off, paused.

Punk shrugged. "I was thinking about it," he admitted.

"You were?" John asked, surprised. He raised an eyebrow. "And here I was thinking you never let go of your grudges. You're actually thinking about forgiving Ziggler?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I let go of the one I had against you," he said with a grin.

"And you're thinking of letting the one you have against Ziggler go?" He did not point out that Punk had only let go of the one he had against him after months of beating the hell out of each other.

"Maybe." Punk's eyes narrowed but the grin didn't leave. "Maybe I'll make him beg some more." He sat up and faced John. "You're going to angst about this all night, aren't you?"

"No," John answered but he didn't sound sure of himself. "Are you?"

"I don't do angst. I do anger, revenge…sarcasm." He ticked it off on his fingers, head tilted to the side. "I'm still pretty pissed off at Ziggler."

"But?"

"But I'm also pretty sure he's right. I think I do love the jackass." He said it plainly, bluntly and John had no idea why he was surprised. If there was one thing that he both liked about Punk and irritated the hell out of him was that the man was honest. If it crossed his mind, it was most likely coming out of his mouth.

Of course, he didn't understand exactly why Punk would love Ziggler. Every time he'd been around the both of them, all they'd seemed to do was insult each other or others. Then again, maybe that was understandable, considering Punk's personality.

"So, that's it?" He asked. "You're just going to let this go that easy?"

The smirk that formed on Punk's face made John want to back away from him. "Oh, no. It's not going to be _that _easy. Trust me."

John did trust him on that. But that left him and what he was going to do about Randy. He did believe that Randy had been sincere. He believed that Randy was sorry. And Randy had been right about that conversation Punk had overheard between Ziggler and Randy.

"You are thinking way too much," Punk said, bringing him out of his thoughts.

"Maybe you don't think enough. What if Ziggler's lying?"

"I told you this wasn't going to be easy. I'm thinking of a few tests." He paused. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't think Orton's lying."

"You don't?" John's tone turned surprised.

"Nope. Orton's always been pretty transparent. He was transparent when he liked you to begin with and if the way he's been looking at you since we found out about the bet is any indication…"

"If he's so transparent, why wouldn't you have known about the bet?"

"With his feelings, ass," Punk said. "Besides, I haven't talked to the guy. I never do unless I have to."

"Right."

Xxxxxxxx

John stood nervously outside Randy's hotel room door, still debating with himself. Punk had been right. He had stayed up all night thinking about it. Thinking about what Randy had said, about what Punk had said.

The show would be starting soon but he hadn't wanted to have this talk backstage where anybody could overhear. He needed it to be private. Finally he raised his fist and knocked on the door. He only had to wait a few seconds before it opened.

"John." There was surprise in Randy's eyes when he looked John over.

"Hey. Can I come in?" John asked first. Randy nodded, immediately stepping to the side so John could walk in. He closed the door and turned to John afterwards, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"I'm assuming you thought about what I said."

"I did." He'd thought about it too much, actually.

"And?" Randy actually looked nervous. He chewed his lip while he waited on John's answer.

"And you were right. I do have….feelings for you." He paused. "And I did believe you," he admitted.

Randy's shoulders sagged with relief and he stepped closer to John. "So, does that mean…?"

"I want to…I want you but I…" He let out a frustrated breath and ran a hand over his face. "Look, if we do this, we're taking it slow again because I don't think I can handle something like that happening again."

"Okay, that's fine. Whatever you want."

John studied his expression. He could see absolute relief in Randy's eyes and sincerity there. "Good," he said and he let Randy close the distance between them.

Xxxxxxxx

Dolph was not listening. He stood backstage with Vickie and Jack and they were both talking but he'd barely paid any attention to the conversation. They'd been talking about the tag match scheduled for later for far too long and Dolph was beginning to feel a little restless.

He straightened, however, when he spotted the man walking towards them. Punk stalked straight towards them, the expression on his face unreadable. At first, he completely ignored both Jack and Vickie.

"We need to talk," he stated before he grabbed Dolph's shirt and began pulling him away. Jack and Vickie both made protests. Punk finally acknowledged them, turning a glare on Jack.

"And if you think you've gotten away with locking me  
>in a closet with this asshole, think again."<p>

Dolph caught the alarmed look on Jack's face before Punk began pulling him down the hall. "What are you doing?"

Punk stopped when they reached a relatively private place and turned to him, released his shirt. He crossed his arms. "Alright, you were right," he said first, bluntly.

"I was…?" Dolph could only stare at the man.

"That I love you." He paused and glared again. "But you're still a jackass so here's how this is going to work."

Dolph's jaw dropped at this declaration. The whole situation was surreal, actually. He was quick on his feet and was rarely surprised but this? This was surprising.

"I'm not sleeping with you again for a while. You can think of this as first date territory."

"First date…?"

Punk ignored him. "So, we can start this over again." He glanced at his watch. "Actually, we can go out tonight. After the show." He tilted his head and his glare came back. "And if you're lying to me again, I will hurt you. Worse than the last time. Think you can handle that?"

"I…" Okay, Dolph hadn't been expecting this. He'd expected Punk to completely blow him off. He hadn't expected anything to come of what he'd said. Punk snapped his fingers in front of Dolph's face, gaining his attention again.

"You listening to me, Ziggler?"

"Yeah." Dolph shook himself and his brain finally started working again. "Yeah, I think I can handle it."

"Good. See you after the show." Punk walked past him then, walked away. Dolph turned and watched him go, still surprised at that outcome. One small part of him told him that that hadn't exactly been a sweet moment, that Punk had been rather gruff about it but he shushed that part of him. He wanted Punk because of his personality. If he wanted someone nice and sweet, he would have gone after John Cena.

A slow smile spread across his face. He'd just gotten what he wanted. He was definitely looking forward to later on that night.


End file.
